


What It’s About

by intruxxx



Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid
Genre: M/M, and by a few I only mean two lol, i added a few extra lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intruxxx/pseuds/intruxxx
Summary: Quirrell thinks about his future with Voldemort and struggles to come to terms with what their relationship is all about.
Relationships: Quirinus Quirrell/Tom Riddle, Quirinus Quirrell/Voldemort
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	What It’s About

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all of you who regularly refresh the QM works page 😳

This couldn’t be happening.

Quirinus Quirrell laid awake in bed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as the pit in his stomach grew larger and larger the longer he thought. Behind him slept another figure: the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, his new friend and the very reason why he couldn’t sleep. His mind was frantic, overwhelmed with feelings of shame and utter confusion as he came to a startling realization. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Voldemort. About him and Voldemort. Together. And in love. 

This was absolutely unacceptable. There was no doubt in Quirrell’s mind that Voldemort would not be okay with this. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the other man, they were just supposed to rule the world and be evil together as friends! In their world, there would be no room for love, for it was nothing but a weakness. So why did that make Quirrell suddenly so uninterested in achieving the goal they had worked so arduously to reach? Why did it make him feel so...empty? 

This whole love thing isn’t what their relationship is supposed to be about. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, Quirrell could not thwart the intrusive thoughts that relentlessly plagued his mind as he tried to sleep. It became so unbearable that he eventually just gave up and let those thoughts bounce around his head, allowing them to develop and form intricate and hopeful visions of the future. 

The future where Voldemort has his body back and they ruled the world alongside each other, just like how they had pictured when they first developed their plan. They would have their own thrones in a beautiful palace where they would sit beside each other every day and just talk. They wouldn’t even be talking about their newfound power or any other topics that cruel dictators might find themselves discussing; with hushed voices, they’d instead speak enthusiastically about their love for each other, their words sweet and genuine. There would be times where Voldemort would hold Quirrell’s hand, intertwining their fingers and he would smile, but this time the brunette would finally be able to see. He’d see his smile and he would smile even wider in return, happy that they would spend the rest of their lives together. As co-rulers of the world. And nothing else. Nothing open and evident to outside eyes at least. 

Then there was the future that Quirrell had convinced himself he hated thinking about but still kept coming back to nonetheless. It was the future where Voldemort still manages to get his body back but, instead of following through with their original plan, Quirrell would convince Voldemort to run away with him. They’d do just that with little hesitation and settle down in a small cabin in the woods, far, far away from the wizarding world where they would live out their lives together in peaceful bliss as a regular couple. No more evil plans or killing children; just them, together, in love and happier than they ever would’ve been as the world’s rulers. 

They would be friends. Best friends! Lovers...and they’d maybe even...Quirrell’s heart fluttered furiously at the thought, a warm feeling expelling the deep pit of shame in his stomach and causing a small smile to appear on his face. He couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy whenever he thought about them, together. 

It was in this future where Voldemort and Quirrell would love each other unconditionally and unapologetically. Where Voldemort would be unafraid to show affection, no longer needing to maintain his reputation as a heartless and cruel Dark Lord. Quirrell imagined that his hands would be fairly cold, only ever managing to warm up when he’d brush his fingers against the other’s cheek lovingly. The coolness of his hand would send shivers down his spine and Quirrell would lean into his gentle touch, his own hand instinctively rising to rest on top of Voldemort’s. They’d remain there, standing before each other with intensely soft stares and shy smiles tugging at their lips. Quirrell could practically see it in his mind: Voldemort’s pale blue irises shining with so much emotion that it was almost impossible not to get lost trying to decipher them. After just a few seconds of staring, Quirrell would be completely ensnared, mesmerized by how beautiful he thought they looked until they began to flutter closed. It would be only then that he’d realize Voldemort was leaning closer and Quirrell wouldn’t hesitate to follow suit, his heartbeat quickening at a rapid pace. Closing the gap between them, they would press their lips together in a gentle kiss-

No. This ridiculous fantasy was not what he wanted. They’ve been working so hard on their evil plan and were so close to succeeding, surely that was what he truly wanted, right? Right! He wanted to rule the world and plant his silly flowers, so surely love had no business being involved...right? Quirrell let out a small sigh, exhausted and conflicted, and closed his eyes as the room fell silent once again.

The shrill sound of Voldemort’s voice pierced through the silence. “Quirrell? Why aren’t you asleep?” 

The man in question blinked in surprise, not expecting to be pulled out of his thoughts so abruptly. “I-I just woke up. N-nightmare.” He lied. “I’ll go b-back to sleep.” 

Voldemort took little time in responding and, much to his delight, the brunette could tell he was concerned. “Was...was it a bad nightmare?” He felt the need to ask; Voldemort had an inexplicable urge to comfort the man. 

“No. It’s alright, V-Voldemort.” Quirrell muttered, already batting his previous thoughts away to clear his mind. “I’ll be alright. Please, rest.” 

A beat of silence followed. “I will, Squ-uh-Quirrell. But...” His voice softened significantly, causing Quirrell’s heart to seemingly flip in his chest, his stomach bursting with imaginary butterflies. “If you have another bad dream, don’t be afraid to open up about it. We could talk and I could-“ Noticing how gentle his demeanor was, Voldemort swiftly cut himself off before continuing, his tone reverting back to its usual cold nature. “I mean, you better talk about it! That’s an order.” He nodded, satisfied with his quick revision. It was evident that Voldemort genuinely believed the other man hadn’t noticed his moment of tenderness. Quirrell couldn’t help but smile brightly, suppressing a small giggle at how abruptly his tone of voice changed. 

“I-I will.” His mind was reeling with a ridiculous sense of overwhelming glee. Voldemort did care. Quirrell knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reminded every once in a while. His smile did not falter as he nestled against the soft pillow beneath his head, his eyes growing heavy and mind foggy as drowsiness overcame him. Quirrell muttered a few phrases that failed to register completely in his head, slipping past his lips without his knowledge. Must’ve been all that love-y thinking. 

“G’night Voldemort. I love you.” 

A stunned silence followed. By the time Quirrell finally received a response, he had slipped into a deep sleep. 

“I love you too..?” 

The Dark Lord was taken aback.  
He’s never loved anyone before.

Voldemort’s words were so quiet and hesitant that even if Quirrell had still been awake, he might not have even heard him. It was becoming evident that their whole ordeal wasn’t just about power and greed anymore, and they were both just beginning to realize. It was no longer simply about being evil overlords together, but about something greater that Voldemort struggled to understand. If Quirrell had been brave enough to share his idealistic hopes for the future with him, Voldemort would have undoubtedly agreed that the one he was supposed to detest the most sounded absolutely wonderful; that he, too, was surprisingly beginning to lose interest in ruling the world. Their relationship was more than just a mutual desire for power; it was about love too.

It was about love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first ever published one shot/writing in general, this certainly was an experience! Constructive criticism is more than welcome!!! 😭😭
> 
> Title based on lyrics from For Joe Walker:  
> “It’s not about ruling the world anymore.”


End file.
